v1c12: Hot Days, Cold Nights
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After everyone who passed was lined up, the guards lead the group to a few transport vehicles. In typical fashion, they were square, grey, depressing and numbered. A stark contrast to the sandy planet they were on. The drivers got out and told the guards how many they needed for their region, and the guards seemed to grab random prisoners to fill the quota. Region Seven, which Christian guessed might be the most dangerous, needed fifty new replacements. The others only needed ten to twenty.

A guard pointed to Christian, "You." he waved his hands, "Region Seven, go to car two."

Christian's heart sunk, thinking he was about to be sent to his death. Thankfully, one of the drivers for Region Seven looked frustrated, "Are you kidding me? That twig? Send him to a camp like Four. He won't even be able to mine 'nothin at Seven."

The guard, not caring either way, told Christian to go to the car for Region Four. It was a little more compact than the other cars, since on average Region Four didn't need as many people as the other regions, which resulted in bigger prisoners squishing smaller ones to the side.

Like the transport ships from the hangar, these cars had no way for the transport inside them to see their surroundings. All Christian knew was that they were moving fast, with a lot of bumps. Sometimes there was gun fire too, but the odd part was that there weren't any guns on the outside. One prisoner, who looked more like a monster than man, kept humming and twiddling his twelve fingers around. Up until the saving grace of the doors opening, that was Christian's background music for the short trip. When everyone got out, they were told to go join the others and start mining.

Not too far from where they were dropped off, a modest barrel full of pickaxes waited. Christian picked one up, turned his shoulder and sighed. It seemed like every part of this planet was sectioned off, again with those huge walls. Should he have really pit himself against an unstoppable force? Did freedom mean that much to him, that he would be willing to put a target on his back?

He slaved away like the rest, barely managing to stand after hours of grueling work. His hard work had not gone to waste, as he had filled his quota. Ironically, he didn't even know there were quotas until the day had ended.

The worst part of Christian's already lackluster day came when he found out there was no lodging. Company superiors had decided it wasn't in the best interests of their profit margins to build houses for the involuntary workers on mining planets, so you had to face the desert planet's cold nights by yourself. While some prisoners had managed to build houses for themselves anyway, a majority slept in the same open caves they mined in during the day.

Christian searched around for a bit, looking for a place he could take shelter in, before finally deciding to give up. He laid there and thought, "If I die tonight, at least I will have proven to myself that there is a life outside of the company." shivering in disobedience.

...

The sun beat down mercilessly on the few hundred Region Four workers. Through eavesdropping and paying attention, Christian found out a multitude of information about Region Four. For example, even though Region Four was one of the smallest and safest regions, gangs were plentiful and the guards usually didn't care if there was violence. It was better for the company for there to be violence.

There were a few human gangs that he thought he would join, but Christian didn't want any part of the ongoing politics of Region Four. In fact, Christian hoped that he could talk with the other lone prisoners and befriend them. One man in particular he caught a glimpse of looked familiar to him. That man looked like George.

It was the middle of the day and Christian decided that at night, when the guards were less active and most prisoners hadn't fallen asleep yet, he would move to the western part of the cave. There were lingering doubts in his mind that discouraged him. What if that man isn't related to George? What if they're nothing alike?

Worst of all, what if he ends up wasting his time?

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